


Feels like a river's rushing through my mind (I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head)

by alphasapnap, minmini



Category: ATEEZ (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Hwarang Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Vmin, Reincarnation, Sappy, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, its complicated, its complicated just read the fic, jounal entries, one sided jimin/san, san centered, san falls in love with dream!jimin, we promise youll get it, were so sorry woosan, wooyoung is confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25875754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphasapnap/pseuds/alphasapnap, https://archiveofourown.org/users/minmini/pseuds/minmini
Summary: After years of viewing his past life through his dreams, San falls in love with Jimin. He finds himself pining over the boy he could never meet, that is, until one day he stumbles across someone he feels like he knows from somewhere.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Feels like a river's rushing through my mind (I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head)

_Dear Jimin,_

_Today I was daydreaming about you as always, but it made me wonder— Will I ever get to have what you and Taehyung have? Where is MY Jimin, SAN’S Jimin._

_Did I not deserve what you had? Was it my punishment to see what a perfect relationship is for the rest of my life, never being able to meet the standards you two have given me? It seems unfair. Why don’t I get to hold someone in my arms the way Taehyung can hold you? Why do I have to witness it behind my own eyes?_

_I just wish I could, I don’t know, speak to you? Touch you? Feel you?_

_I don’t know._

_I still love you,_

_San_

~

San doesn’t remember when he started getting visions of his past self. They came in the forms of dreams and memories, quick to write down even the tiniest of details in one of his many collections of journals. However, he remembers how naturally they came to him, almost feeling like second nature to be able to now recall all of the memories that have appeared in his dreams every night.

It doesn't always start like that though. He remembers telling his parents about one dream when he was younger. It was the first one he was able to recall from beginning to end, where he had to have a battle with a giant squid and he managed to cut off four of its tentacles before it grabbed him and ate him alive. They laughed at the ending, amused with the entire story, and later handed him a blank journal that is collecting dust on a nearby shelf, telling him to write down his dreams in it so that he doesn’t forget them.

And that was exactly what San did. He would wake up and immediately shoot over to his journal to scribble down all of the dreams he had. Many he would only remember a scene or two from in the same setting. However, there is a universe in his dreams that slowly recurs and keeps appearing over and over again when even his wizardly ones didn’t.

It is in a place with a setting similar to the ones he sees in his history textbook. The worn-out yet sturdy houses lined up along the gravel roads, the clearings where he sees men train to become soldiers, the lush green trees that adorn the tan, stone walls… There were a few dreams where he was in a field near a dated house, others were him in a busy, crowded area where people bustle through their days without a single regard to him other than a grunt or nod in acknowledgment. San only recalled a few times where he had actually conversed with them, although it doesn't feel like his own words as he is talking in this olden language.

At first, he thinks they were just coincidentally there, like when he always battles giant beasts in different places. Although the more he keeps writing about them throughout his childhood, the more he thinks that it could be something else. Time passes by and yet he can still remember everything about those dreams. When he woke up the next morning, the memories were fresh in his head. It is weird, but it’s been so normalized to him at that point where it isn’t a big deal.

Until he was thirteen when one conversation would send his mind spiraling. He is sitting at his school desk during passing time, doodling a random flower on the corner of his notebook when he finds himself tuning in to the conversation not too far from him.

“And then, he came up to me and said something, but I don’t remember what it is,” a girl groans. The group of kids sigh with her.

“Well, I usually never remember any of my dreams…” someone else says with a chuckle.

Another student perks in. “Same! Like I will remember for the first five minutes after I wake up, but then I just completely forget afterwards!” Laughter erupts from the group.

San pauses mid-stroke of a petal as they keep chattering. He was always the kid that sits in the back of the classroom lost in his own little world, and maybe that’s why he was just hearing it then. Do other people really not remember their dreams? He thought that was normal. Maybe that’s why other kids got a little freaked out when he recited his dreams.

Later at home, during dinner, he asks his parents if they ever remembered their dreams.

“Hmm… I don’t usually remember them,” his mom answers, reaching over to pluck some pickled radish from a side dish. “Maybe not the entire story, but I do remember bits and pieces.”

San watches his dad nod in agreement. “Sometimes I know what’s going on, other times I don’t.” The responses only left the boy nodding thoughtlessly as he picked up another chunk of rice and chewed on it.

Dinner continues in a comfortable lull as he listens to his parents talk to each other about adult-related stuff. When they are done, San helps with the dishes before going back into his room and sitting at his desk, pondering about the conversations from that day.

It’s odd that they were all able to say that they forgot what they’ve dreamt of when he can vividly recall every one of his. Why is that? Is he not supposed to remember the elderly woman teaching him how to sow the seeds in the gentle spring breeze? Or the bustling produce market in the early mornings? Or running in the gravel clearing with a few other boys as they played tag until the sun kissed the horizon?

San grabs his dream journal from the corner of his desk, the familiar black leather cover greeting him, and opens the book. He started this one a couple of months ago. Every entry ranges from either having a few paragraphs to five pages worth. Sometimes he has time in the morning before school to write in it, but other times he has to take it with him to write in between classes.

There are some drawings here and there of the people, places, or things. Most of the dreams that he had were random. Magical spells, cultivation, street racing, natural disasters, all with random twists in the middle of them. He feels the corner of his lips lift as he skimmed through his past entries. He always liked to go back and read them again to relive the dream if they were nice.

The ones that aren’t so nice, however, got mostly omitted. Sometimes if he is brave enough he writes about the ones that aren’t too bad. For the most part though, he doesn't like remembering about the bad moments in his life, often choosing to push them to the back of his mind and moving forward with life.

As he gets to his most recent ones, San’s eyebrows furrow. He definitely noticed it before, but after today it seems really strange. What started as dreams from historical eras sparsely showing up are now appearing more and more often. He almost doesn’t remember the last monster he slew nor the last crazy dream of him needing to stack 892 cake layers before time ran out.

Is this supposed to happen?

Maybe it’s just some weird coincidence, San dismisses using the big word he learned recently at school. He spends the rest of his evening doing the rest of his homework and playing on his handheld gaming console before it is time to go to bed.

The pages in his journals over time are filled with the same people, the same old lady that sometimes makes dinner for him, the same boy that always wants to talk to him, keeps hearing his soft whispers coaxing him that everything will be okay.

He knows that something is going on, and he’s determined to find out more about this universe that he keeps finding himself in.

It’s as if his mind is being read by someone, because gradually his dreams become more and more about that historical world, the scenes becoming longer and more vivid. He starts to get to know the people there too. The elderly woman who always appears in his dreams is his grandmother, he figured out after he calls her that in a conversation. She is kind, patient, but carries a respectable aura that told him to not mess with her. One of the dreams he has is when she cooks homemade stew for him after he comes in after a long day outside. San can almost taste the vegetables and broth as he ate it in his dream and he woke up the next morning with a warm heart and drool on his pillow.

However, there is something that keeps him holding onto these dreams. A boy, about the same age as him, will always be there for him. He has long hair always flowing behind him and is usually dressed in a battered outfit. His cheerful demeanor, gentle word, and sweet promises have drawn San in for the longest time. Whenever he looks at the boy in his dreams, he can see the glow that radiated from him. His eyes have a fire in them that never dies, his smile curling from something tender to mischievous and playful.

Park Jimin is his name. He occurs more and more frequently as the years went by for San. The earliest memory he has of the boy is when they were just moving past being toddlers. Their families knew each other, and Jimin is always at his house asking his grandmother to play with him. From there, they are always glued to each other's side until they turn twelve when Jimin is told he has to train to become a soldier to carry his family’s honor. San remembers Jimin making a fuss and saying that he wants to be like the pretty dancers that always perform at the festivals they go to. He also remembers the darkening expressions on Jimin’s parents' faces before shutting him down and placing a sword in his hands instead.

From there, it becomes harder to make time for each other. However, some days San goes into the training grounds on the other side of the village to see Jimin trying his best to keep up with the other trainees. Whenever practice stops at noon for lunch, they go to a more isolated area of the village where they eat anything that San brings for them and chat before the town bell rings and Jimin scurries back to the training grounds after saying goodbye.

Something spirals from thereon. San and Jimin spend time together almost every day, like they can never be separated. The whole village knew about this, and adored their friendship.

Except San doesn't feel the same way.

He has a few friends in middle school. However, they are rough with each other and would panic when a moment between them feels like one that you would see in romantic dramas. Those are what his friends act like, and that isn’t the same with him and Jimin.

He finds himself looking at Jimin a little longer than normal, insisting that the other boy is never a burden when he complains about his problems, willing to bring an extra helping of his grandmother’s red bean buns over when his grandmother isn’t looking, wanting to be there for Jimin and aiding him as much as he can.

He feels giddy and excited to see Jimin in a way that he never feels with his friends. He sometimes looks down at Jimin’s hand and wants to clasp onto it and never let go. He wants to spend time with Jimin while looking at the sea down the trails away from the village.

He wants to be with Jimin forever.

San should not be feeling what he is feeling. He finds himself falling more and more for Jimin. It should be ridiculous because he never sees this boy in person, but he always feels too real for him to pass it off as ‘someone from his dreams.’

However, the boy he has fallen in love with in his dreams doesn't know who he is. San isn’t San in his dreams. When he drifted away in his sleep, he lived through the eyes of a man named Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung is a farmer who lived with his grandmother on the outskirts of the village they grew up in. Although he wants to be an artisan, he prioritized the family farm his grandmother worked so hard to nourish. He is the one bringing lunch and snacks for Jimin as they sit on the bench together. He is the one his grandmother is raising and taking care of. He is the one who Jimin saw instead of Choi San.

Regardless, San has spent the next couple of years trying to piece together all of the events that happened in that world. The dream journals that he keeps all this time vary from chicken scratch writing from when he’d just woken up to the most vivid, detailed drawings of sceneries and people. He learns many things about these memories, including Jimin reciprocating his feelings for Taehyung. The first time the boy leans in to kiss him, San wakes up with a racing heart and flushed face. He almost doesn't write it down because of how flustered he is.

Memories like those make him want more of that world and what it has in store. As much as he loves to keep experiencing the romance with Jimin, bigger conflict arises in that world.

That village is facing the brink of war from political and social issues. The demand for more land overshadows the safety of their people as they fight for who owns what portions. Not even that, but their society is more… “traditional” per say, aka the idea of two men being together is appalling and inappropriate in order to create a future for the next generation. San often finds himself doing lots of things with Jimin in secret. Behind the buildings, in an empty field, at Taehyung’s house itself.

Their social statuses don't help either. A boy training to be a warrior and another is tending his grandma’s farm, said grandma giving them more leeway with her authoritative power. San can remember the distaste and envy that other villagers have towards them as they seemed to lally-gag around the village. He feels self-conscious, anxious, but at the same time okay as long as Jimin is there with him.

Sometimes he wonders why he spends so much time cooping himself up in this world. The tale of two lovers forbidden to be together has haunted his dreams. He can even say that Taehyung’s memories are now a part of him. Waking up with either warmth and butterflies in his stomach or in cold sweat and tears. It has affected him, this past life he keeps seeing. When he is in that world, he thinks like Taehyung, talks like Taehyung, acts like Taehyung.

It is almost as if Kim Taehyung has become a part of him. It is a blessing but also a curse.

At first, it is fascinating to try figuring everything out. He is filled with curiosity and tries to pay attention to everything around him. As he keeps remembering what happened every time he woke up, he knows that they aren’t just ordinary dreams. They begin to feel like memories.

Living as Kim Taehyung is a surreal experience. San can't control what he said nor did, like his (or Taehyung’s) body is on autopilot. He is viewing the world through Taehyung’s eyes without having any control over it. It frustrates him at some points because there are things he wants to do that Taehyung does the complete opposite of.

He also began to see some similarities between him and Taehyung. The man is shy, quiet, but not afraid to smother the ones he loved with affection. He acted childishly, got kind of whiny at some points, but he also is level-headed in moments when Jimin is crying in his arms. He loved to experiment whether it is food, fashion, and more. It made San forget that he is living as Taehyung rather than himself.

All of these things came together as another life instead of a story narration. It is almost impossible to think of these as ‘silly dreams’ or ‘nightmares that go away’ when they’ve been seared into his mind every day. San knew that and he is still trying to figure out why.

~

Tonight isn’t an exception.

He is laying in his bed, staring at the white ceiling, barely lit by the lamp by his nightstand. It might happen again, he thinks, already feeling his mind slipping away from his body.

It’s kind of scary, not knowing what dream he’ll go through again. Most nights were okay. Going through the tough life living in a village on the brink of war against other regions. Every once in awhile he jerks awake in a cold sweat and panting sharply.

Some nights though, neither happen.

He finds himself fluctuating between that universe and other miscellaneous dreams. Sometimes it came in waves, other times it won't even show up until random moments later. It is almost relieving to have those breaks some nights. The stress of what the next dream will be is enough to leave him restless. He can never trust his own head, it never fails to bring unpleasant thoughts and memories into what should be the most peaceful part of everyone's day.

San sits upright in his bed, looking across the dark room, bookshelves filled with notebooks, reaches to his side table where his medication sits and pops a tablet into his mouth, before rising to go sit at his desk to try and unwind. He does what he normally does. He pulls out a sketchbook and begins drawing who he draws best.

San presses the pencil into his sketchbook, the lines of Jimin’s face showing up naturally on the paper. The soft curve of his cheeks, plump lips, long flowing brown hair that Taehyung loved to brush through with his fingers. Drawing like this gives San a chance to really remember and picture all the memories he's seen through the eyes of Taehyung, and challenges San to remember even the tiniest of details. Pushing him to recall the cherry blossoms that fall into Jimin’s hair, the way Jimin’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the way Jimin’s tongue peaks from in between his lips when he is really concentrating on learning a new dance. Everything, San wants to know and remember everything. Everything Taehyung has left for him is important, or at least San believed so. There has to be a reason he is seeing all these things. He has to use these to find Jimin, why else does he have this gift (or curse) to be able to remember even the tiniest details of this past life?

Jimin is the most beautiful memory he’s ever been gifted in seeing. The gray lines on the paper in front of him do an amazing job of replicating the Jimin in his mind.

San begins to wonder, not for the first time, how soft Jimin's lips must be to Taehyung.  
What those plush lips must feel like, if they taste like the cherries they have picked from their favorite tree, if they make fireworks burst inside his chest. These are the kind of thoughts that cloud his mind as he drifts in and out of memories. How do Jimin's small hands feel like in his own? How does it feel to hold those soft cheeks, kiss the small button of his nose? San may never know.

Sans's last conscious decision that night is closing his sketchbook, and falling into bed towards a deep slumber.

~

_Taehyung is setting down the blanket under him and Jimin’s favorite tree. The cherry tree in his Grandparents Orchard has branches that feel like they were hugging the boys close when they sat under it._

_Taehyung sat down on the blanket and began unpacking all the treats he baked with his grandma today for Jimin. Honey pastries decorated like little hearts, and of course, fresh fruits from the garden and orchard were all ready._

_“Taehyung!” A petite man is running towards Taehyung at full speed. Long hair bouncing and a smile widening as he approached._

_“Hi Jimin!” Taehyung yelled back, sitting up and preparing for impact. Jimin rushed into his arms, immediately wrapping up into the other, being careful not to ruin any of the food that Taehyung has put out. “How is training?”_

_Jimin separates from him and reaches to grab a cherry. “Awful as always,” Jimin pops them into his mouth, continuing while chewing, “The general is pushing me too hard, and the other men just tease me.”_

_“Awe, my poor baby, I’m sorry.” Taehyung pouts, pulling Jimin for him to rest against his chest, “I’m sorry your parents are making you do this.”_

_“Every man has to learn how to use a sword.” Jimin reasons weakly._

_“I don’t know how to use a sword.” Taehyung reasons back._

_“Yes but you’re going to get this farm, you’re never going to need to fight,” Jimin says, a little more attitude in his voice now, which makes Taehyung pinch his sides in response._

_“Yes, and? I still am a man who doesn’t know how to use a sword.” Taehyung says while nuzzling into Jimin’s hair._

_“Fine, fine, you’re right,” Jimin says giggling at the feeling of his hair being ruffled by Taehyung's face._

_They lay there in peaceful silence, occasionally one of them reaching for a pastry or a cherry, every so often placing a soft kiss somewhere on the other, just enjoying each other's presence._

_Taehyung breaks the blissful quiet, “Why don’t you tell your parents that you don’t want to fight?”_

_“They definitely don’t want to hear it. They already are forcing me to do this because of what the townspeople say about us, they’re ‘worried’,” Jimin says, obviously annoyed by the thought of his overbearing parents._

_“Aw, forget those people, their words don’t matter.” Taehyung states matter-of-factly._

_“To us, they don’t matter,” Jimin emphasizes,” To my parents, their words are everything. Same reason the general and the others give me such a hard time I’m sure.”_

_“We should just run away, get out of here. Go somewhere where you’ll be able to learn the dances, and I can shop in town without being sneered at.” Taehyung dreamily shares._

_“Maybe we should,” Is all Jimin says back, looking up into the light shining through the leaves. It’s quiet for a long while after that, all to be heard is the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the breaths of the two boys, still holding each other close. “Do you think a place out there might actually exist? Where the people don't hate us?” Jimin whispers, he sounds scared._

_“I’d like to think so,” Taehyung answers, hugging the smaller impossibly closer. “You should eat some more, I bet you’re tired from training.”_

_“I am tired. Not hungry though.” Jimin mutters quietly. Taehyung just pouts at him. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. Pass me an apple.”_

_The weight from Jimin rises off Taehyung's chest, and he smiles as he reaches to grab an apple out of the basket he brought along, rubbing on the front of his clothes before giving it Jimin._

_“Thank you,” he says tiredly. Taehyung can tell that Jimin is exhausted but he doesn’t know what to do to make him feel better, maybe it will just be better if he went home._   
_“Jimin, do you want to go home and rest?” He asks warily._

_“No!” Jimin practically yells. Taehyung freezes. Jimin glances to him, then softens his gaze as he looks to the ground solemnly. “I’m sorry, I just, I just want to be with you, okay?”_

_Taehyung nods. He knows Jimin doesn’t have an amazing relationship with his parents, but he's never reacted this poorly to leaving. He assumes he's just stressed._

_“Do you wanna sleep here tonight?” Taehyung gestures to the blanket on the ground. It won't be the first time the couple have spent the night here, it isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but it is the only place the two of them can hold each other all night without disruption._

_“I would love that, Tae,” Jimin smiles languidly at him. Tae starts to move the leftover food off of the blanket while Jimin finishes the last bites of his apple._

_Taehyung lays down on the blanket, Jimin following suit. Jimin reaches out and pulls Taehyung's head into his chest. They lay there enjoying each other, watching the stars through the leaves on the tree that hug the boys close. As Taehyung began to drift into the peaceful grasps of sleep, he can have been mistaken, but he can almost swear he heard light cries from Jimin._

_Taehyung doesn’t notice the bruises on Jimin’s arms that day._

~

San wakes up with an aching heart. He knows the dreams leading up to the worst day in Taehyung's life like the back of his hand. He just lays there looking at his ceiling, tears gently falling out of his eyes, not making a sound.

His alarm rings uselessly, more there to shake him out of his thoughts then to wake him up. He just sighs, wipes his eyes, and turns over and silences the alarm on his phone. Like clockwork, he immediately grabs the dream journal on his bedside table and begins writing about the dream. He’s had this one quite a few times. It’s definitely not the worst, but it's not the best either, nonetheless, it makes his heart sink to the floor and will affect his mood for the rest of the day.

The tired boy eventually makes it out of his bed, his only connection to Jimin, and begins getting ready. Putting on a comfy sweater and loose tweed slacks, he makes his way into the kitchen to grab something to eat before starting his day. After eating some toast and an egg, San shoves an apple in his mouth while tying his shoes and putting on his long black jacket before grabbing his messenger back, his phone, and his keys and heading out the door.

The cold air of early morning feels refreshing to the tired man. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the cool air icing up his lungs, and began his trek to his college about a mile away.

San likes his walk in the morning, it gives him time to process the dream from the night before. That said, it also gives anxiety time to settle into the pit of his stomach, and stress to wear on him if the dream isn’t a pleasant one, like this fine morning. Memories of Jimin in his arms fill his head as he walks down the concrete with music blasting in his ears. Some might think that those thoughts would bring comfort, happiness. For San, it brings extreme want, longing, sadness. Especially after a dream like this one, so close to being a nightmare. He starts to feel nauseous, hand moving up to hold his stomach.

Even though San has had this dream before, and knows that it doesn’t mean he's going to have the nightmare that follows just days after, he can’t help but be reminded. Reminded about all the things he's forced to see by his own brain.

San begins to ponder, not for the first time, if he’s being punished for something. If he is being forced to see these people who are more in love than any other person he has ever seen, just to know that he will never find the Jimin he wants, that he needs. A Jimin that San can protect in this life.

San feels anxiety course through his body, he’s so on edge, and for what? A dream? He’s so frustrated with himself. He’s so tired. How does he juggle two lives at once? He sighs, looks up, and realizes he's reached his campus.

Without thinking, he makes his way to his first class of the day—Creative writing. Something simple, with a couple of friends. Good time for San to become distracted and not be as anxious.

The class is quiet when he enters, the professor hasn’t arrived yet. Most students are on their phones, getting an extra 5 minutes of their lost sleep in, or talking in a whisper to a friend or two. He makes his way back to his seat, nestled in between his two friends, Seonghwa and Namjoon. Seonghwa and Namjoon were regular attendees of their university’s writing club, but San preferred to discuss writing with the two of them alone. The idea of being in a room full of so many people to talk to made his skin itch. These two, however, he finds himself not minding. He met them through a psychology class when the two recognized him after he attended the meeting once. With enough prodding, the three ended up sticking together throughout the rest of the quarter and forth. San barely nods in acknowledgment at the two boys, his eye bags and anxious energy being read like a book. The air shifts and awkward tension is amplified for every word not spoken between them.

“So… Any progress on your story?” Seonghwa asks fiddling with his pencil, trying to ease the tension. “I know that you’re not really part of the club, but I was just wondering.”

San hums in reply, leaning back against his chair. His friends know about the tales in his dreams, sort of. When he first met them, they caught onto him hiding something from them. San did not want them to know, but at the same time, this whole thing has been circulating his head for the longest time that he is dying to tell someone else.

He did end up telling them, but under the guise of it being a long-term project that he has planned to ‘publish’ in the future as his ‘ultimate goal’.

“Kinda? I’ve been having writer’s block recently, so it’s hard to say.” The white lies flowed almost seamlessly at this point. While he feels bad for not giving his friends the whole truth, the thought of them doubting him or losing connection from him being ‘crazy’ overshadows his internal guilt.

Namjoon gives a sympathetic smile. “I get that. I was stuck on one of my chapters a few weeks ago. Sometimes, it just takes time before the story comes together itself.”

“Yeah…” San trails off. Maybe that’s what he needs to do. It’s not like his memories are going anywhere. He watches Seonghwa nod in response upon hearing Namjoon’s words.

“Yeah! That’s what I had to do. It took a while for me to find inspiration, but I did whip this up.” He pulls out his notebook that has all of his random scribbles in and flips to the current page. “Instead of always having the main character in the scenes written, I brought in the other side characters, and their personalities really helped with the rest of the scene.”

San smiles. “I think that’s a great idea.” He loves hearing about what his friends can come up with. They are such admirable people, and he remembers the surge of pride he felt when Namjoon printed out his first book that he completed, or when he watches Seonghwa’s face light up in epiphany over an idea in his storyboard.

Class passes by without any problems, and admittedly San does feel a little better. He is still anxious, but now it is just a light buzz through his veins. As he gets up from the table he is sat at, he waves to Seonghwa and Namjoon, as they head to the writing club. San has a little time before his next class, he usually spends it getting some coffee, a light snack, and then sits outside his Korean Literature class until it starts. He feels bad about never going to the club with the older men, despite all the invitations he receives. He barely feels comfortable talking about his story with two people, but the thought of sharing it with a group sounds horrific.

Walking to the on-campus cafe is another second nature thing to San, ordering a decaf vanilla latte and a croissant to munch on while talking to the barista— Jungkook, is a very lighthearted and relaxing part of his routine.

“Good morning, San!” Jungkook paused in wiping the counter, looking towards the familiar face with a soft smile, “The usual I assume?

San rose a brow, looking at the other with a teasing glare, “I’ve never gotten anything different,” he playfully bites back. Jungkook just rolls his eyes while grabbing a croissant to warm up. Kook made the best coffee out of all the other baristas, others made it too sweet or too bitter, once one forgot to even add the milk, but Jungkook always delivered.

“You look stressed today,” Jungkook starts as he cast a quick glance to the other. I mean not that you don’t usually look tired and stuff, you usually do, I just mean, like--”

“I’m fine, Kook, I just couldn’t sleep last night.” San’s used to telling people that he’s fine and pulling out the ‘I just didn’t sleep well’ excuse, but it still bothers him how easy it was to read how he was feeling.

Jungkook walks until he faces him on the other side of the counter, eyeing him for a moment. He finally sighs, continuing, “Okay, just let me know if you ever wanna take this decaf to the next level,” he says while handing over the coffee.

“Maybe one day Kook,” San says as he turns to leave, “You’ll be the first to know.”

“See you tomorrow San.” He calls after him as San leaves the cafe.

~

The rest of the day passes by without any excitement as usual. San feels the weight of the school day fall off his shoulders as he makes his way to his favorite place on earth. The park isn’t too far from his school, just about a 15-minute walk, and he always feels more pep in his step on the way there.

Moving past bustling bodies down the city streets, for the haven that this park is for him, his safe place. Entering the park feels like entering another realm, and even more, sitting down underneath the weeping cherry tree that makes him feel held, and always feels warm, is exactly what San needs everyday.

San isn’t sure that this is the same tree that Jimin and Taehyung would cuddle up under, but it gives him the same feeling that he's sure the two boys from the past felt. It always feels nice to duck under the branches to lean back against the trunk and open up his journal to write about his day.

Writing in this park is now second nature to San. Everyday after class he comes out to the big weeping cherry tree in which he and Jimin paint and read stories to each other under. Second nature to come back to the place where meals and kisses were shared without a care in the world. This big tree brings him unexplainable comfort, and some days he feels like Jimin is sitting next to him in the patch of sun that warmed the grass right beside San.

This tree gives him a space to be able to write down all his thoughts and messages to Jimin, to try and get his words and love out to him. The words flow out of Sans pen and on to the thick paper. Sometimes the words change and begin to drift into inkful images of butterflies and Jimin's calm face. San is always very self conscious of his art, but he knows Taehyung would have wanted to draw Jimin everyday, multiple times a day.

The park is usually quiet this time of day, there were still a few parents chasing around tiny children, and young adults walking their dogs through the garden down the path. But it is nothing like the private orchard Taehyung and Jimin got to share in their nights alone. Being under the branches feels almost like they were curling in, trying to protect the love birds. But San is happy to just sit there alone, with Jimin in his thoughts and his journal. So when someone started to strut down the path, obviously moving to a beat, feet gliding over the dirt and gravel path, only to come to an abrupt halt and hip thrust into nothing, you can say San is a little startled.

Other people visit this part of the park, sure, but to have someone hip thrust to the music in their earbuds seemingly in their own world, is completely unheard of. So when the man turns his head and notices San staring at him, the panic in his eyes is noticeable as he rips his earbuds out of his ears with such vigor that San winces because he feels that.

“Oh… my god I am so sorry that you had to see that.” A nervous high-pitched voice came out of his mouth and that is all it took for Sans stomach to drop to the floor and for words to get clogged in his throat. Because San knows this voice, it’s the same voice that talks to him in his dreams every night, the same voice that is always telling him how much he loves him, how beautiful he is. The same voice he’s known for as long as he can remember, and will probably remember for the rest of his life. This voice is Jimin, this Jimin is slightly different but still obviously, purely, Jimin. The stranger that held the voice of countless memories is obviously starting to grow uncomfortable with the silence, but all San can think to say is a simple,

“Hi.”

“Uhm… Hello,” The stranger that holds Jimin's voice responds, a smile breaking out on his lips.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine, by the way, the park is as much yours as it is mine, you can dance as much as you want,” San’s words stumble out, acting like he is responding to Jimin more than he is responding to this stranger, if he could even be called that.

Wooyoung giggles at that. “Sure! But I don’t think all the moms appreciate my hip thrusting in front of their children.”

“Well, good thing I’m not a child,” San said, a smile gracing his features.

“My name is Wooyoung,” the incarnation of Jimin said, smile as bright as the one he's seen in his dreams.

“Wooyoung,” San whispers. He knows it makes sense for this man to not have the same name as Jimin, because he is no longer Taehyung, but for some reason, he is just waiting for The Jimin to waltz right back into his life. “I’m San.”

“Well, hello there San.” Wooyoung glances down to the journal sitting in San’s lap, “Whatcha writing?”

San just points his eyes back to the page where he's met with words he wishes he can say to Jimin directly, “Uh, just writing about memories I have with an old friend.” San says, trying to ignore the screaming in his chest that's telling him to grab onto Wooyoung and never let go.

“Awe, that's really sweet,” Wooyoung probably has the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. “Do you come here to write often?” He asked, sitting down next to San.

“Ah… I mean, yeah, like everyday,” San mutters shyly, he can almost feel the heat radiating off the boy sitting next to him. The energy, the pure happiness, San begins to wonder if this is how Taehyung feels when he was next to Jimin all those years.

“Oh wow, so this place must be really important to you, huh?” Wooyoung says with a giggle.

San starts to wonder if Wooyoung knows Jimin and Taehyung. Knows their history. Maybe he's teasing San, it's something that Jimin would do, always so full of life and joy, always pulling lighthearted pranks and joking with him. Maybe Wooyoung knows.

“Yeah, lots of memories under this tree, with someone I care about,” San says looking up through the leaves and then back down to Wooyoung, who's smiling oddly fondly.

Wooyoung mimics his actions and looks up at the light shining past the leaves in the tree they’re nestled under. “They must mean a lot to you then, you’re really lucky.”

“You have no clue,” San says under his breath, or maybe Wooyoung does.

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you guys enjoyed! We've been cooking this puppy up for ages! Please leave a comment with your thoughts <3


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